Somebody Else

You know, all through Nicole's first pregnancy, I loved sitting next to her and talking to her belly. I was always fascinated that there was somebody actually in there. Somebody new. Somebody we hadn't met.

She never really felt Gamble move much, in stark contrast to Random, who we felt move constantly, and who was right near the surface. I would touch her, and she would move. Also in contrast, I didn't talk to her as much.

It was as if the tactile expression that she was in there substituted for entire nights of talking. Nicole reminded me that we ended up at the doctor's office a couple times because she hadn't felt him move for a while.

So as we were waiting for Random, I found myself fascinated with the idea that there was not only somebody in there, but that it was somebody else. Not Gamble. Not some little nobody that does nothing, but somebody who might someday tell Mommie that I told her that "That Jackal has his thumb in his butt, right Daddie?" or who will sing songs of her own devising, or have a preference in where we eat dinner.

Somebody else. Somebody independent. Somebody different.

There's a stranger in the house tonight. Somebody who we get to know. After the harrowing hours of NICU and the whole checkout process, it's nice to have somebody else home, too.